Trial by Jury
by Jenny70529
Summary: Sara thinks she has hit bottom, only to realize there's still a long way to go. Sandle.
1. Darkness

_Author's Notes: I know you're probably thinking I'm insane for beginning a new story when I've neglected my old ones as much as I have...but never fear, I never leave a story incomplete, and as a matter a fact, a few of my older ones are coming to a close, so we need to get something new in it's place. Actually, this idea came to me while sitting in my Criminal Law class...so I decided to run with it. I love to know what you're thinking, and if there's an interest, I'll continue. For those who read my other stories, I'll try to have all of them updated by this time next week. _

_I absolutely adored CSI last night, which is probably the biggest motivator in getting me back into a writing frame of mind...and I have a LOT of ideas working right now, so don't be too surprised to see a lot from me in the near future. _

_Dedicated to Emmithar, since she told me I had to post something today. :D. _

_Jenny_

**Trial by Jury:**

**Chapter One:**

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

"I do."

"You may be seated."

_It wasn't always like this. I once had an exhilarating job, a loving boyfriend, a nearly perfect life...well, adult life...Now, I have nothing. _

"Miss Sidle, when was the last time you saw Dr. Gilbert Grissom?"

"December 17, 2006. The night before his death."

_I had known it was a mistake to start dating my boss, let alone sleep with him, but at the time I felt so lonely, so depressed that I would have taken any offer that came along. It was something one of my sisters, from my foster care days, had called a "May-September Romance", a relationship that lasted only through the hot, restless summer nights. High summer crime rates had kept us busy and apart, otherwise we may not have even lasted that long. _

"His condition at that point?"

"Alive?"

_I had never been one to partake in secret romantic rendezvous, and as the nights grew cooler, I could feel the distance growing exponentially farther between us. I started spending more time with my friends, I stopped accepting his breakfast invitations, and eventually, we agreed to break it off. I had never been more relieved in my entire life. _

"Alive? Can you possibly be more descriptive?"

"Rhythmic breathing, pink-lively cheeks, alert and responsive eyes, control and usage of his extremities."

_I always had a knack for sarcasm. When you've hit bottom, sometimes it is all you have left. It is the basis of my attraction to Greg...aside from his charming, good looks. No matter how sad or angry I may be, he is able to make me smile. Even now, in this wretched predicament, he is the one ray of sunshine through the clouds. It probably looks bad that we were together from the moment Grissom and I ended--technically, three hours before--but even though the faithful part of my relationship with Grissom, it had always been Greg my heart longed for. _

"His demeanor, Miss Sidle?"

"Stoic."

_The prosecutor is giving me angry looks, but I don't flinch. Stoic describes Grissom perfectly. If I had used any other adjective, I would have been lying. Far be it from me to lie under oath. At his best, Grissom was pensive and quiet, at his worst, stone cold. We definitely had problems between us, but that night, we had both been cool and mature. _

"Stoic?"

"Look, Grissom was the silent type. He rarely got angry or volatile. When I saw him, he was the same as always, quiet and...there."

_I really didn't know what he expected me to say, we had been over this dozens of times. I didn't do it. I wasn't there. Just because I have a flimsy alibi doesn't make me guilty of anything other than not having a life. _

"Miss Sidle, did you murder Dr. Grissom?"

"No."

_Of course not. I can barely kill a spider, much less a human, a friend, a mentor. _

"Were you with Dr. Grissom at the time of his death?"

"No."

_If I did know who did this, would I really be taking the blame? Losing my job, my friends, my life? What kind of question was that?_

"Did you want him dead?"

"What? Of course not!"

_Tears filled my eyes, and as hard as I tried to control them, I couldn't make them disappear. I clenched my eyes shut tightly, willing myself to calm down. This was not the time for a breakdown. I had to be strong, I had to focus, or risk being held responsible for a reprehensible act I did not commit. _

"Did you have any contact with Dr. Grissom after his death?"

"No."

_I couldn't keep the strain out of my voice as I bit back tears. We may have had our problems, but how could anyone think I could have done such a thing?_

"Then can you explain why your DNA was found at the crime scene?"

"No."

_My voice cracked and I was unable to stop the sobs that overtook my body. I was being framed, someone had to have planted the evidence. I definitely did not kill Grissom. He always preached that the evidence "doesn't lie", but this time it was telling a nightmare of a tale. It only took me a few minutes to regain my composure, and as I wiped my eyes on my pale blue correctional facility jumpsuit sleeves, the prosecutor came back to the stand._

"So you're telling me, Miss Sidle, that you have no idea how Dr. Grissom received his fatal injuries?"

_The photographs were laid out onto the stand, one by one, showing the horrific wounds inflicted on my ex-lover, my boss, my friend. My first instinct was to gag, but my body barely had time to flinch as I felt myself go numb and succumb to the welcoming darkness. _

--

"I don't think it is necessary for you to be here, my client is already upset enough as it is, this is a matter the detective and the prosecutor can handle alone."

"I've invited Miss Willows with me as support personnel for our case."

"Are you telling me it takes two people now to bring forth new evidence--"

_As I walked into the room, I felt the tension grow to a suffocating level. All conversation stopped, and I was met with three pairs of expectant eyes. I felt my heart skip a beat, my body turning ice cold as Catherine's blue eyes met my own dull brown ones. Why was she here? What was she going to say to me? Was this really necessary? Hadn't I been ripped apart enough on the stand, did she have to personally come down to the prison to make things worse? _

"Sara, have a seat. District Attorney Charles, Detective Curtis and CSI Willows wanted to meet with us regarding some new evidence in your case."

_I sat as I was told, my eyes blurred with tears as my head began to throb painfully. How could they keep finding this evidence on me when I had done nothing wrong? Our department had never fabricated evidence before, and I highly doubted we'd be starting now...but was this some sort of vindictive revenge on Catherine or Ecklie's part? How could they possibly keep finding things on me? I was nowhere near the man! I could feel Sophia and Catherine's eyes on me, but I kept my eyes focused on the metal table in front of me, trying to keep my breathing steady and my tears at bay. I wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. _

"Miss Sidle, you are aware that perjury is a felony, correct?"

_Imagine that, I wasn't the only one who took criminal law in college._

"Yes sir."

_I glanced at the D.A., wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug smile off of his face. I wasn't an idiot, some common criminal that they could intimidate and frighten. I was a Harvard Graduate, Summa Cum Laude. I had worked with law enforcement for years, I wasn't some punk off the street, too cracked out to know the difference between up and down. It was insulting to be treated this way. I let my gaze travel from the DA to Sophia, who looked superbly uncomfortable, to Catherine, who was staring at me with disappointment. Could this day get any worse?_

"Then you are aware, Miss Sidle, that your testimony was filled with lies that will only lengthen your prison sentence?"

_Just as I was about to rip into DA Charles, Sophia held up her hand and stopped the man in his tracks. There was never any love lost between Sophia and I, but she wasn't that bad of a person. Right now, she was rapidly climbing the ladder to a short list of people who I even slightly respected within my old circle of friends and colleagues. _

"Miss Sidle, we have new evidence to prove you were not only with Mr. Grissom at the time of his death, but also several hours prior to his death, which directly opposes your testimony."

_Oh, wait, Sophia. Would you like that knife back? I'm sure you have some others you'd like to stab with it, the moment they turn around._

"I was not with Grissom when he died, nor was I with him before he died. You will find nothing to prove otherwise, because it had been at least 18 hours from the time I left his townhouse to the time he was murdered."

_How many times did I have to go through this? I rubbed my left temple gently, knowing fighting this headache was pointless, but unable to think with the pounding echoing through my weary head. _

"We are not here to badger my client. Show us what you have."

"My team and I recovered several drops of blood at the crime scene which belonged to Sara Sidle. At the time, we used DNA testing to place Miss Sidle at the crime scene. Miss Sidle countered that the blood must have been from a previous visit to Grissom's penthouse, and we used other evidence to build the case against her. It wasn't until my CSIs were reviewing the evidence that we found photographs taken of the blood drops, which were not yet dry when we arrived at the crime scene. For the blood to still be wet, it is impossible that 18 or more hours had passed since Miss Sidle was at his home and obtained some sort of injury."

_I had always disliked Catherine. Now, I was growing to really hate her. How on earth could my blood be found, wet, at a crime scene where I had not been? This was impossible. I was going to be framed for something I had not done. I was going to go to jail for a crime I did not commit. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't until this very moment that I realized just how screwed I was. My life was already ruined, I had lost my friends, my job, my home. What else was there? I am no better off sitting in this jail cell, waiting to get my rights torn away as I would be if I were dead. After spending all of my teenage years trying to not be like my mother, here I am, preparing to rot away in a jail cell just as she had done. The death penalty was rare, but after conviction, maybe my lawyer could swing it for me..._

"Can you really tell from a photograph whether or not the blood was wet? Beyond a reasonable doubt?"

_My head shot to my lawyer, and I suddenly found myself doubting her competence. Of course you could. _

"We are confident in our results."

_Smug Catherine shot me another look, and I felt the room wobble slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut as I prayed that I wouldn't pass out again. I had never felt so alone in my entire life. _

"Everyone take cover!"

_I was vaguely aware of the guard's voice reverberating through the room as my lawyer pulled me to my feet and pushed me beneath the table, where she and the district attorney had both ducked. It was only then that I realized that it wasn't just my nerves making me unsteady, the room was literally shaking. I could feel the tension grow as the motion intensified, and I briefly wondered about Greg. Was he feeling this in his house? Did he know we were having an earthquake? What about Catherine's daughter? Was she safe? Would Grissom's gravestone be damaged by the violent shearing of land? Was is really wise for a cop, two lawyers, and a crime scene investigator to be trapped with a supposed murderer, even if she was innocent? _

_I squeezed my eyes shut as something from the ceiling crashed onto the table above us, and in a quiet whisper I wished for everything to end and for us to escape unscathed. The shaking intensified and someone, I'm assuming it was Catherine, screamed. Another crash was heard directly over my head as another piece of the ceiling crumbled. Had I been in my cell, I would be perfectly safe, the walls were reinforced and protected to keep the prisoners where they were supposed to be. In the questioning room, it was a whole other ballgame. Through the rumbling and crashing, I was vaguely aware of sirens wailing through the building's walls. My stomach grew queasy with worry as the table began to creak once more, and I struggled to move my chained hands to protect myself from the inevitable pain that would result once the metal legs gave way. _

_The motion ceased, my eyes blurry with unshed tears as my heart raced. Believe it or not, even growing up in California, this was my first earthquake. All thoughts were pushed aside, however, as the weight of the table came crashing down on me with a sickening crack. I felt a burning sensation take over my body as I struggled to look over my shoulder and check on the other occupants of the dusty, debris littered room. I opened my mouth to speak as someone called my name, but as my head grew heavy, I could only close my eyes and welcome the darkness that was eager to surround me. _

_**TBC** _


	2. Waiting

_Author's Notes: Sorry about the delay, I haven't been able to decide what story to update. Lol. Thanks to Emmithar for convincing me that this was postable. Please let me know what you think, reviews make the world go'round. _

_Isn't CSI great? _

_This one is from Greg's point of view...next one will be back to Sara. Just to curb any confusion..._

_Jenny_

**Chapter Two:**

I wasn't too blind to see that conversation immediately stopped when I walked into a room. I expected as much, after all, I was dating the person they were trying to convict of second degree murder, but it still unnerved me that my supposed best friends were treating me like I had some sort of contagious disease.

This time, though, it was different. Instead of nervous stares or blatant avoidance, I was met with a look of pity from my coworkers. I carefully avoided each and every one of them as I wove my way through the crowd of people in the small waiting room, finding an empty chair in the corner and taking a seat.

The city was in chaos, it wasn't every day that an earthquake disrupted the Entertainment Capital of the World. Although the magnitude wasn't devastatingly high, it was enough to fill the local hospitals with panicked, injured people. I had a feeling that despite laws that directed otherwise, my girlfriend would be pushed aside just because of her telltale orange jumpsuit.

I glanced quickly at Catherine, who was being showered with attention from Warrick, and scowled bitterly. I had gotten the call from her an hour earlier, her curt voice telling me that I was needed at the hospital in order to make next-of-kin decisions about Sara, who was in critical condition. From the way everyone was doting on Catherine, you'd think she was near death. In reality, the worst of her injuries was a cut to her arm, requiring a few stitches.

It had been only 12 hours since the earthquake, and judging by the sheer volume of people to be treated, it could be hours before I heard about Sara. For all I knew, she could be dead.

Tears filled my eyes, but I forced them back. Crying wouldn't help, it wouldn't fix Sara, it wouldn't get us out of this mess. Every time something new would happen, we'd believe we had reached the bottom, but fate couldn't resist taunting us with more problems than any human should possibly have to face.

I was barely able to stifle a groan as my supposed friends made their way towards me, fake smiles of concern on their otherwise smug faces. Here it was, time for Sara to be hit with blame again. To be honest, it wouldn't surprise me if they tried to pin this earthquake on her...apparently labeling her a murderer wasn't too hard, why not try to blame some other act on her as well? Her causing an earthquake was just about as ridiculous as the notion of her taking a human life.

After all, since we had known her, she had been adamant that she couldn't kill, regardless of the circumstances.

And if she were to kill, why would she choose Grissom, of all people? He was her mentor, her friend, someone she looked up to and respected. And furthermore, would she leave evidence laying around for everyone to find? Sara was smarter than that, heck, anyone who worked in the lab was smarter than that. Most cops were smarter than that. Would someone with the intellectual capabilities that my girlfriend possessed really be stupid enough to leave her blood laying around? 'Frame' was all over this picture, but our new boss Catherine could only repeat Grissom's old mantra, "Follow the evidence.".

But what if the evidence was wrong? I may not have as much experience in the field as they do, and I may be a little biased because of my relationship with Sara, but it was obvious that this went a little deeper than what meets the eye.

Unfortunately, I'm not allowed anywhere near her case, so I have no say in the matter. It does surprise me, though, that Warrick and Nick aren't standing up for her. It reminds me of when our shift was split up, and Nick and Warrick went to work for Catherine. The three of them had formed a little clique, and for all practical purposes, avoided Grissom, Sara, Sophia, and I like the plague. Only now, my team was down for the count, and I was left alone in the dust. Maybe they hadn't forgotten the bond they formed while working closely with each other, but it sure as hell seemed like they forgot I existed.

I thought being "punished" by Grissom was bad. When on his bad side, it was a few weeks of trick rolls and decomps, but eventually he cooled off and things went back to normal. Since his death, I'm the perpetual rookie. Even with experience on harder cases, I'm looked at like the lackey, available to take any job no one else wants. Apparently her little minions are too good for simple burglary, minor assaults, and so on. So who was left doing all of the dirty work? Me.

And I can guarantee that when a spot on day shift becomes available and I transfer over, the three of them will be scratching their heads wondering why.

Nick takes a seat beside me, and I refuse to meet his eyes. I know it's a petty move, but I can't help myself, I feel like being petty today. Any words of sympathy will be forced, it's clear they don't give a damn about Sara, otherwise they wouldn't have turned on her.

Why couldn't it have been Catherine who was so badly injured? Sara's overpriced attorney? The prosecutor? The guard? Sophia? Why was it my girlfriend, the one person in my life I couldn't live without? Why did this happen to happen now? To us? Why wasn't Sara safe in her cell? My list of questions was too long to expect any answers from.

"I'm sure she'll be fine."

I sharply brought my eyes to Nick's, stunned by the sheer audacity of his words, "Right, Nick, they usually use the terminology 'critical condition' when it's something very minor."

"That's not what I meant, man, I'm just trying to help. We're all worried about her."

Nick raised up his hands in a stereotypical "back off, you're acting crazy" motion, and I had to bite down on my lip to keep from telling him what a hypocrite he was. He didn't care about Sara, he only cared about the case they were working hard to get an indictment on. Sara wasn't a friend to them, she was a criminal, someone they were worried could walk on a technicality arising from this disaster. The fact that they were even here had first surprised me, and was now getting on my last nerve. To spout meaningless words of pity weren't helping anything, and the idea that everything was peachy, despite the circumstances surrounding this hospital visit, was not only patronizing, but infuriating.

"I'm sure it sounds a lot worse than it is. Catherine, why don't you tell us what happened?"

I was almost relieved to hear the nervousness in Nick's statement. After all of the stress they had put me through since Grissom's death, I was glad to return the favor, even in a small dose.

Catherine glanced down at her bandaged arm, then took a seat across from me, putting her hand reassuringly on my knee, and looking hurt as I roughly jerked away. With a quiet voice, she explained, "When the earthquake began, we all took cover...Sara and her attorney got beneath the table, and when part of the roof collapsed, it crushed the table on top of Sara. Her attorney was able to maneuver out of the way, but with the restraints, it made it hard for Sara to move anywhere."

She stopped before putting her hand on my knee again. This time, blinded by unshed tears, I didn't even think to push her away.

"I don't think she was in a lot of pain, she lost consciousness almost immediately. She did lose a lot of blood, and I'm pretty sure her leg is broken, but they got her out quickly, so hopefully it wasn't too late."

Wasn't too late? Hopefully? Gee, that's great. Way to go with the optimism, Catherine. The woman that I love may be dying, but "hopefully" that wasn't the case. For someone who was right there, Catherine sure was lacking information.

"I don't know exactly what happened when they began to dig her out, the paramedic was attending to my injuries."

Catherine held up her arm, and I had to fight to resist the urge to roll my eyes. How did I know this would come back to her?

"They told me I was lucky to escape so lightly, considering the injuries everyone else sustained. Sophia's been admitted with a punctured lung, due to a broken rib. ADA Charles has a few broken bones and a concussion. Sara's attorney is pretty banged up, I don't know the details...the guard died."

My eyes shot to Catherine's, panic written on my face. If the guard had died, what's to say Sara wouldn't? Nausea consumed me as the possibility of living without Sara became clear. Jail time? That was different, I still felt like the jury couldn't hang her for something she didn't do. But death? That was final.

"Woah, man, you alright?" Warrick asked, placing a hand on my shoulder.

It was then that I realized I was shaking, and probably looking just about as bad as I felt.

I was saved from further interrogation as a doctor walked into the cramped waiting room, causing all conversation to cease. I crossed my fingers, praying this was about Sara. At this point, I couldn't wait any longer to know what was going on with my girlfriend, not after knowing that someone just feet away from her had died.

"Sara Sidle?"

I jumped to my feet, making it to the doctor in record time, "I'm Greg Sanders, her next of kin."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanders. Would you like to follow me into the hallway for some privacy?"

I numbly nodded, following the doctor into the hallway with a deep sense of dread. If it were good news, it wouldn't have been a privacy issue. This couldn't be good. I should prepare myself for the worst.

Once in the hallway, I leaned against the wall, hoping that in the event that she was dead, the sterile white frame would keep me on my feet. My head began to throb as the doctor flashed me a sympathetic smile, his eyes tired and slightly disappointed.

"How is she?"

"She's still unconscious, and she has a lot of internal injuries that need repair. Mr. Sanders, were you aware that Miss Sidle was pregnant?"

I've never been so glad to be leaning against a wall. The room spun around me and I suddenly found myself having to remind my body to breathe. Pregnant? Sara? She's been carrying a baby while locked up in that cesspool of a prison? I blinked rapidly, hoping that the panic wasn't too clearly written on my face.

"Mr. Sanders? Do you need to sit down?"

No, I've got my wall right here, and if I cling to the molding right behind my back, I can probably keep myself on my feet.

"I'm alright...I just...I didn't know she was pregnant. How far along?"

The doctor glanced down at the chart in his hands, speaking softly, "Just over four months."

"Oh my God." I muttered, bringing a hand to my forehead, as if that would ward off the impending headache, "I'm going to be a father."

"Mr. Sanders, Sara received a lot of very serious injuries in the earthquake. The fetus is showing signs of distress, and we can't operate on her until we are sure the fetus can remain stable. With the injuries Sara is suffering...they can be fatal if not repaired quickly. We're going to need you to make a decision."

Make a decision? Was he insane? How do you decide whether or not to kill your own child?

_TBC_


End file.
